


Heart of the Resistance

by LM_Gennaro



Category: Captain - Fandom, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LM_Gennaro/pseuds/LM_Gennaro
Summary: Genevieve, it is a name whispered through France, the bane of the Germans that occupy their country and the hope of the Resistance. She is the salvation of the downed airmen and Allied soldiers caught behind the enemy’s lines, the creator of chaos and destruction for the Nazi’s. Some call her a savior, some a terrorist, but it is her mission to save her country. To remove the German’s and Hydra from France forever.  The legend is complicated enough, but the woman is so much more.  Is she everything that she seems, or is the double life a lie?  Can she be trusted or is she orchestrating the downfall of America’s greatest weapon and his elite team?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I don't own anything that Marvel owned first. I was inspired to write this after reading about some of the female spies in World War II, particularly those involved in the French Resistance. If you've never heard of any of them look them up, they were incredible women and badasses. I'm trying to mix as much actual historical facts into this story as is possible in the Marvel Universe. Hope everyone enjoys this!

_1943 – France_

It’d been two hours since James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes, Gabriel Jones, and Jacques Dernier had parachuted into the small city in France.  The Allies had gained a foothold in Italy, soon they’d be turning their attention toward France.  It was a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. Jacques had been part of the French Resistance before Hydra had captured him.  It was his job to make contact, Gabriel to translate for Barnes, and Barnes to provide cover if necessary.  He was the best shot in the Howling Commandos, a sniper, the man in the shadows taking out the enemy before they even knew he was there. 

The local leader of the Resistance had sent men to meet them and smuggle the Commandoes into the nearly empty closet sized room. Barnes paced the room, pausing on the side of the window, staying just out of sight as he watched the snowy streets below.  His Springfield 1903 was ready in his hands, the most comfort he could find, in the dingy dirty room.  It’s plaster walls were crumbling, showing the wooden framework underneath.  His foot prints combined with others lay in the dust looking like a mad dancing how to mat. 

It was a risky plan; Jacques’s contacts could’ve been taken or turned in the time he’d spent as a prisoner of Hydra.  Not one of the men currently waiting impatiently were willing to let that happen again, least of all Bucky. The pneumonia he’d contracted from the forced labor in the freezing cold while inappropriately dressed and under nourished had left him gasping for breath like one of his best friend Steve’s asthma attacks.  Well, one of Steve's attacks before he’d been turned into God Damn Captain America.  Bucky was still fighting to wrap his head around that.

The sharp pain that merely breathing caused had sent him into a coughing fit leaving him feeling as if he’d been stabbed.  The fever had left him weak, alternately fluctuating from chills that racked his body and sweat that made him think he was burning from the inside out.  All of that hadn’t held a candle to the experimentation they’d subjected him to once he’d been useless for manual labor. 

He’d expected death, the last thing he’d ever imagined even in his wildest fever induced hallucinations was that Steve would rescue him. They’d been more brothers than friends for years. That relationship alone would've prodded most into any available action.

However, the ability to rescue Bucky wouldn't have come from a lack of heart or a lack of will.  Steve had always had the spirit of a warrior, a courage, and a damn nobility had been unfortunately been born into a frail, sickly body.

Before Bucky had left for Europe Steve had protested he was a hundred pounds, but that might’ve been soaking wet. He had a host of health problems from poor eyesight, partial deafness, asthma, and a weak heart.  The amounts of rare liver Sarah Rogers had forced her son to eat for his pernicious anemia made Bucky’s stomach turn over even now. 

Bucky shook his head as he remembered the fogginess and the babbling of his own voice when he’d heard the door open the day Steve had saved him.  Bucky’s body had tensed for the next round of treatments as he tried to push his mind away, into a place where it no longer mattered, instead it hadn’t been any of the doctors, nor had it been any of the Nazi soldiers. It’d been a tall muscular man, with the voice and face of Steve.

The nurses at the base liked to call him an Adonis. Bucky vaguely remembered the Greek mythology they’d learned in school, something about the goddesses fighting over Adonis for his beauty.  He shrugged, he supposed the shoe fit.  Tall, stronger than the average man, blonde haired, blue eyed. 

Bucky snorted, they were lucky Hitler hadn’t decided to capture Captain America to use him as a stud for his Arian breeding program.

Even as his mind wondered still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past few months, he was alert.  A stone skipping across the cobblestones, the shuffle of feet in the hall, the soft sounds of jazz playing from somewhere across the building, he registered everything.

He glanced at his companions to see they too were straining, waiting, the uncertainty reading in their body language. Bucky glanced back out the window and continued to wait, letting his thoughts try to sort through themselves to take the edge off.

It wasn’t just Steve’s looks that were making the girls nuts, it wasn’t just his hero status, or his ridiculously stubborn bravery, it was his aura of innate goodness.  Steve would do the right thing no matter what because he was that kind of man, the kind that had a moral compass that couldn’t be compromised.  Underneath the muscles and handsome face was that skinny kid from Brooklyn that too many had liked to beat on, the one that couldn’t keep his mouth shut at an injustice no matter how many black eyes it earned him.

It was the same kid he’d protected for years, it was that kid that made it hard to hate that it was his best friend that had become stronger, faster, and that all the dames were looking at.

There was a little jealousy, after all there was no comparing with Captain America, which was a lesson in humility, but he’d had a few of those lately.  He now knew what it was like to live in another man’s shadow.  More prevalent was an innate sense of pride, his friend, his brother had grown up and that man that Bucky had always seen was now out there for everyone else to see.

He exchanged glances with the other two of his party.  Time was slipping past making him itchy, glancing at his watch, he knew the window to reach their extraction point was getting smaller and smaller as they waited.

They needed the contact, they needed the intel.  They were doing their damnedest to raze every Hydra post to the ground that they could find, but this particular mission had a dual purpose. To take back Europe the Allies needed a foothold into France.  The hope was that they could do both, by taking down the Hydra compound in France they could get the information needed to scale an invasion.

“Give it a few more minutes Bucky,” Gabriel said quietly.  Bucky nodded, Jacques had given both men a brief jerk of his chin as they’d entered the building, drawing their attention to the wrought iron fire escape and the rooftops that were close enough that they could jump to the neighboring one.  If necessary, Bucky would lay down cover fire until they could reach the ground and slip into the woods.

Footsteps clipped down the hallway, making Bucky cock his head to listen. They paused just outside the door, before a man entered.  Bucky lowered his gun as the man held up his hands, a thick manila envelope in one of them.  The man looked at Jacque, offering an out pouring of French, Bucky caught a word or two, but didn’t understand. He waited patiently as the conversation went over his head, watching his companions closely waiting for the slightest hint of alarm.

“Good evening Monsieur, welcome to France,” the man spoke with a heavy accent. “As I have told your friends, I understand you’re looking for information on Hydra and their bases here in France.”

“Yes,” Bucky replied shortly.

“They have assured me that if the Resistance helps Captain America, he will be willing to help France against the German cochon that have invaded and controlled our country?”

“Yes.”

His second answer was as clipped as the first.

“How do I know this isn’t a trap? How do I know that Jacque hasn’t been turned?”

“We’ve come to you in good faith, we’re obviously not French, except for Jacques here. What would the point be of Captain America risking three of his Commandoes to help the Nazis?”

“There is an officer, high ranking, named Josef Gebhardt. Our contacts tell us that he will be traveling to Paris and then on to the Hydra base here in France. The remaining information is here in the envelope, our contact will get in touch with you with further information, within a few days.”

“How will we know your contact?”

“They will find you,” the man replied, as he slid the folder across the floor, Gabriel picked it up as the man turned away.  He paused for a moment near the door. “You are James Barnes, no? Captain America’s sniper?”

“What of it?”

“If you get a shot on Gebhardt, do me a favor, take it.”

There was pain in his eyes, a pain that Bucky knew would never go away, but might be eased by the death of Gebhardt. A peace that would come with the knowledge that he couldn't hurt anyone else.

“I promise,” Bucky told him and with that, the Commandos were left alone, the light swinging from the ceiling at the door shutting.

After a few moments, the door opened once again, for the briefest of moments, Bucky thought it was a young boy they’d sent in.  A blink of his eyes and he wondered how he could’ve ever thought that. 

The masculine clothing the dame wore only briefly detracted from her curves.  The moment she moved the long tails of her untucked shirt hugged those curves.  Her dark hair had been pinned up under the military cap she wore.

“Come,” she said in a voice accented as the mans though not as thickly. He couldn’t help noticing despite the fact her lips were unpainted the customary shade of red most women wore, they were a soft cupid’s bow.  

Bucky raised his eyebrow at her as Gabriel finished his cursory look at the contents of the manila envelope and stowed it for travel.

“Come,” the woman repeated, as she slipped her arms into a bulky jacket further obscuring her figure. “There are eyes everywhere and your faces are not known in this village.  You must leave before too much notice is taken of you.”

Giving a brief jerk of his chin toward the door, Bucky followed her, his eyes sweeping the hallway as they filed out of the room. Keeping to the shadows they slipped out of the building and into the empty street.  

The moon was full, a detriment when you were trying to hide, especially against the white snow. Everything was thrown into relief. Silently the woman led them from shadow to shadow, remarkably good moving herself and the men that followed her stealthily through the village.  She never faltered, she had a keen sense of hearing and had obviously memorized the patrol patterns and times of her enemy.  Finally, they slunk into the woods.

As she turned away from the direction of their rendezvous point, Bucky caught her arm.

“Where are you leading us?”

Tilting her head to look up at him the moonlight caught across her delicate features, her brow furrowing.

“Gebhardt will be coming through this town tomorrow Monsieur Barnes,” she replied softly making no move to fight him, instead offering a pointed and annoyed look at the hand that held her.  “He rests here overnight and to collect his most recent mistress before continuing on to Paris. The woods are even as we speak being patrolled by the men he sent ahead to secure the area. It wouldn’t do for Captain America’s elite force to be cornered by them, now would it?”

“We were told the city was safe,” Bucky snapped, jerking on her arm pulling her closer. Tilting her head  to look up at him, her eyes were flashing with anger, but she still didn’t fight him.

“What city in German occupied France is actually safe Monsieur?” she demanded in return.  “Surely Captain America sent his best friend and his best shot in because he knew you were the best hope for all three of you to return.  Now, it is the Resistances job to get you back to your fearless leader and you are not the first Allie servicemen I’ve helped escape, perhaps the most handsome, but not the first.”

“Okay doll, but I’m watching you.”

Bucky released her arm and stepped back as he shouldered his weapon, telling her he didn’t entirely trust her.

“You are wise to be cautious Monsieur Barnes, dangerous times… and all that.”

She gave him an approving smile followed by a saucy wink before she turned and slipped through the trees. She moved silently and carefully, leading them through the darkness by the light of the moon where it broke through the trees.  Wordlessly beckoning them to follow, she glided through thick bushes at the base of a rocky outcropping. 

It was pitch black in the cave, there snicking of a match before soft light filled the small cavern.  The woman lit a kerosene lamp, making certain the wick was low before she glanced at the men and moved farther into the cave. Shielding the lantern with her hand she moved unerringly deeper. Looking around Bucky noticed a passage had been carved into the stone, reminding him of a mine.  They continued through the darkness, the woman and her lantern their only guide until at last he could hear rumble of a truck.

“The truck and your rendezvous point is just at the end of the tunnel, be safe _mes amies_. Au revoir.”

“What’s your name doll?” Bucky couldn’t help asking. Her mouth quirked up in an amused smile as she shook her head for a moment before responding.

“They call me Genevieve,” she replied. “Do not tarry.”

He gave her a roguish smile and a brief nod before he followed the other men into the back of the truck that was waiting.  Unable to help himself he glanced back to find her standing at the mouth of the passage for a brief moment before she slipped away, the lantern moving through the darkness like a will-o-the-wisp until it disappeared altogether.

Swinging into the truck he let the canvas flap of the army truck fall shut behind him as he took a seat.  

“What’d they give us Gabe?” Bucky asked settling his rifle across his lap and looking and the man across from him.

“Didn’t have much time to look Buck,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “There was a dossier on Gebhardt, the information they’ve collected…”

He trailed off as Jacque said something, Bucky looked from one man to the other curiously.

“Jacque tells me Gebhardt is a protégé of Ewrin Rommel.”

“Rommel was the man behind the invasion of France,” Bucky whistled low. “He’s one of Hitler’s top and favored military leaders.”

“It looked like pretty detailed reports, it would’ve taken a while to accumulate the information and more than likely an inside man.”

“Looks like we got what we came for gentlemen, when we get back the first rounds on me,” Bucky told him leaning against the walls of the truck and closed his eyes as the adrenaline that had raced through his system began to ebb he found himself thinking of the woman, Genevieve. The dame had beauty and guts, he had to give her that.


End file.
